Free Magicstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 4) by Amber Kallyn

her by scent, and by something
else he couldn’t pinpoint. He’d felt her deep inside himself.
    Their strange connection was growing
stronger, and he didn’t know how or why, or even where it was
coming from.
    As he waited, the past circled around him,
ready to drag him under. He knew well what it felt like to have a
spell cast over him.
    Could remember, all too clearly, the things
the sorceress had done to him. Made him do.
    The woman had been able merely to look at
him, and he’d been hers to command.
    This... thing... with Celeste felt different.
But it galled him he didn’t know what it was. And if he couldn’t
tell if his actions were his own or someone else’s, he feared he
might go as insane as his brother.
    The front door finally opened. Celeste strode
out and he managed to push the memories away.
    She didn’t speak as she got into her car, but
at least she gave him a couple seconds to slide into the passenger
seat before slamming on the gas.
    After ten long minutes, he asked, “Where are
we going?”
    She shot him a glare, full of wishes for his
demise. “A club. The first victim from last night was there.”
    “You spoke with your sister?”
    “If you could call it that,” she mumbled.
    Her tone struck him. “You don’t get along
with her?”
    “Shana doesn’t get along with anyone.”

Chapter
nine
     
    The drive was tense, silent. When Celeste
pulled into a parking lot in front of a towering building that
looked ready for a demolishing crew, he glanced at her. “You sure
this is the place?”
    “Yes,” she replied, anger still riding her
tone.
    In the center of the building was one lone
door, painted bright red. It was garish in the bright light of day.
He didn’t spot any runes on the outside of the building, but that
didn’t give him much comfort.
    Celeste slammed her door shut, then strode
across the asphalt. When she reached the building, she banged on
the red door.
    Taking a deep breath, he said, “I’m sorry. I
lost control.”
    Her eyes widened as if she knew what it cost
him to admit such a thing.
    Before she could reply, the door swung open.
A burly man, nearly Brandon’s own height, glared at them, his eyes
squinting from the sunlight. “Waddya want? We ain’t open ‘till
six.”
    Celeste flashed her badge.
    The bouncer stared at it for a long moment,
then slammed the door shut.
    “Seriously?” she demanded, banging on the
metal again.
    “Hold your horses,” the bouncer yelled from
inside. “Boss’ll be here in a minute.”
    She grumbled, leaning against the brick wall,
crossing her arms over her chest. “He could’ve let us in.”
    Brandon moved to her side, matching her
falsely relaxed pose. “He could have.”
    She only grunted in response. The silence
between them thickened as she raised her hand and traced the bite
marks on her neck. “So how often do you lose control?”
    Heat flushed his neck and cheeks. “It’s been
centuries.”
    “Hmm.”
    Straightening, he turned, staring into her
eyes. “It will not happen again.”
    Her mouth thinned into a near snarl. “It damn
well better not.”
    The door swung open and the bouncer squinted
out at them. “Boss’s ready. Come on.”
    Celeste blinked.
    Brandon caught the door a second before it
could slam shut again and held it open as she walked inside. Though
her gaze still spat fire, the tension in the lines of her body was
still tight. At least now it was thankfully directed away from
him.
    The hallway the bouncer led them down was
lined with medieval artifacts. Swords hung in displays between
suits of polished armor. Brandon eyed one of them, as authentic as
those he’d worn six hundred years ago.
    Interesting.
    The hallway opened into a massive space
filled with tables surrounding a stage and dance area. On the far
wall, ceiling to floor mirrors reflected the lengthy bar area.
    And at the center of the long bar sat a man
Brandon could smell from across the room. He leaned close to
Celeste and whispered,